Crossing the Line
by BlackbirdChaos
Summary: After working a full year with Red and living the single life, Liz finally does something she has been wanting to do for a while. She crosses the point of no return and kisses Red. How will it effect the dynamics of their working relationship? Are they ready to let go of the past- Liz's insecurities, Red's complicated history- and let something new begin? [RedxLiz]
1. A Kiss

**I own nothing regarding the Blacklist. This is just for personal fun, and hopefully people will enjoy reading this story. I'm new to this so I'm sorry if it's badly done. I'd love to hear your perspective on whether I should try for more chapters.**

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After a year of working with Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth found herself irritated with him for a completely different reason than she was expecting.

For a year she had spent practically every waking hour with him working on capturing the criminals on his list and he was constantly giving her a headache with his remarks; sometimes ones of hidden sexual undertones, other times genuine compliments on her clothing choices for the day or the way she did her hair.

He continuously drove her crazy, whether he was realizing he was doing it or not.

They had gotten closer this past year. She and Tom had divorced after him finding out she knew he was a lying, manipulative bastard, and ever since then she had been single and living alone with her dog. It had taken her a good five months to adjust to life as a newly single woman again; Tom and Liz had been married for two years, they had met in high school, and she never once thought the day would come where they wouldn't be together anymore.

She didn't want to be tied down with memories of life spent with her husband in their house, so she had moved into a smaller place fit for one person and their aging dog.

Liz thought Red was flirting with her, all the times they were in the same room together. All the little subtle things, like glancing her way and deliberately stepping into her personal space. Touching her, bumping into her, staring at her mouth whenever he listened to what she was telling him, and the way his baritone voice tended to get deeper and more seductive when he was addressing her into the conversation.

Red hardly paid anyone else as much attention as he did Liz. He seemed to know everything about her, he had invested into her private, personal life, and what type of man does that unless they are somewhat attracted to the woman in mention?

Just last week, she had been discussing with him the potential motives of one of their targets when he rapped her on the knuckles figuratively to steer her in the correct direction, slipped in behind her while she was leaning over the desk, and put his hands on the table around her so she felt completely blocked and consumed by him. Harold Cooper had watched them, and Liz almost feared he could read how flustered she was.

What irritated her most of all, was that she was positive he had feelings for her, and yet he never did anything about it. He never asked her out on special dates outside of work. He never made any move towards her but in a room, he constantly made sure he was the only one she paid attention to.

The frustrating thing for Liz was that she enjoyed the added attention he gave her and found herself wishing something would happen. Liz had been single for a while now, her job took up most of her time, and the only thing sleeping in her bed next to her at night was Hudson, the dog.

She was sure the man was somewhat attracted to her and, although she had tried to fight it for a while, she couldn't deny that she felt attracted to him. It was just doing something about it that was the hardest part. But not tonight. Liz was determined; Things were going to change between them, whether she had to aggressively shove herself at him or not.

She slipped into a black halter neck dress, fixed her hair up into a loose chignon, pushed her feet into a pair of heels, and decided tonight was the right time to finally make the move. She dabbed on some of her favorite perfume that she wore mainly on special outings and instantly, she felt like a young woman empowered.

Hudson, who wagged his tail at her, seemed to be egging her on too. Liz couldn't possibly imagine anything going wrong.

When she arrived at the hotel room he was staying at for the night, she felt those nagging feelings of anxiety settling in. What was she going to say? What was Red going to say? Was this even such a good idea? Ignoring all those niggling little questions in the back of her mind, she knocked on the door of his room and waited, listening carefully.

She heard movements from inside and she backed away restlessly, peering along the hallway. The hardest thing for Liz had always been letting herself become vulnerable to somebody. Also, letting someone into her heart and allowing herself to be open to getting her heart broken. Tom was the only man who had seen her naked, he was the only man she had ever let herself be intimate with, both emotionally and physically, and look how that turned out...

Tom Keen wasn't even truly Tom Keen.

She didn't think she would ever feel the same way about any man after what she had found out about Tom deceiving her all along. But miraculously she did, and those feelings were for Red.

She clasped a slender hand over her chest to calm her erratic heart. Then she heard a bolt slide open on the other side of the door and she considered making a run for it. If only she hadn't chosen to wear these ridiculous high heels that were impossible to run in.

xxx

Red was indulging in a glass of scotch while peering out of the hotel room window, until he heard a hesitant knock coming from the door to his hotel room that pulled him out of his thoughts. He checked the clock on the wall, then set his glass down on a coaster before sliding his legs off the ottoman they were perched comfortably on and getting to his feet. It was 12.30 at night. Usually he hardly had such late night visitors. Dembe had already gone home and he had been left in peace and quiet for some time. His vest was unbuttoned and the top button of his trousers was undone.

Clearly he hadn't been expecting any late night visitors otherwise he would have been better prepared.

He unlocked the door, flung it open, and was momentarily shocked to find Elizabeth standing there, dressed like she was going out to a party- or had at least already headed out to one earlier. The black dress she was wearing was stunning and fitted to her slim figure, and Red felt a strange surge of envy for whichever man who was lucky enough to be in her company for the evening. Last time he checked, it wasn't her birthday so it wasn't a matter of her heading out for any special occasion. There was still two months and eight days until her birthday came around, and yes, he was counting.

"Lizzie, do come in." He moved aside to let her in and she entered, looking around the room for a moment nervously. "To what do I owe this unexpected, yet exciting...?" The words died on his tongue as he took in her strange disposition.

Something was off about her, and he wasn't sure what. He scrutinized what she was wearing a little more closely, and it came to him. Ah, she must have had a hot date with probably some young-spirited, spring chicken more than half his age. The idea didn't please him, but he hid it well, and felt some semblance of satisfaction as he took in her expression. Her face was tight, strained, as if she was anxious and on-edge. He took that as a sign that the date hadn't gone down too well.

"Are you okay, Lizzie?"

She turned to look at him and shook her head. Strands of her dark hair came loose with the movement of her head, dangling an inch from her collar-bone, and her lips parted.

"What is it?" He held his hand out towards her in a placating gesture, because he wasn't sure if she was going to start crying. He absolutely hated it when she cried. "Tell me what's happened."

She looked around his hotel room again before stepping closer to where he was standing. Red was surprised by the dramatic change in her expression; She now looked determined, as if she was convincing herself mentally to do something challenging. Before, anxious and uncertain about coming into his hotel room, she had looked soft, vulnerable. But now she looked hard, and determined. Her eyes flitted back and forth, alternating between meeting his eyes and staring at his mouth. There was a fire in her light eyes for him, one he hadn't seen before from Liz.

Then blowing Red's concern out of the water, she leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. It was a hesitant and innocent kiss, one that lingered for a blissful second or two. Red was particularly enamored by the perfume she was wearing; a sexually provocative, rose and jasmine based sweet fragrance that he recognized as Chanel. Then she disengaged her mouth quickly from his, searching for his reaction with her eyes uncertainly. The fire was still there, but it had dimmed a little. Red was baffled and felt speechless, for once in his life.

"Lizzie, I don't know if that was such a good idea. I'm... far too old for you. Not to mention this would only be incredibly messy for both of us."

"Too old? I'll be the judge of that," she murmured, rather breathlessly. "See you at work."

Leaving him flabbergasted, Liz turned without another word and moved towards the door she had only just entered in. She turned to look at him once before she left, and Red saw the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

Red stared at the door vacantly after she left. Then he closed his eyes and scratched the back of his head. He could still feel the warmth of her lips on his, smell her perfume, see her fire. In steamy times like these, he needed a cigar. He wasn't sure whether he had dreamed the entire thing, but if not, it should make working together all the more interesting.

He certainly wouldn't be able to look at her mouth in the same light ever again.

**I'm sorry if this was terrible, I'm really anxious about this. I would love to know if this is something I should continue with? Thanks for reading.**


	2. Avoidance

_**I want to thank you all to the stars and back. It means so much to me, the kind response I have received so far. I hope you enjoy this one. As before, I hope to know your thoughts.**_

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_**Chapter Two**_

When Elizabeth got into work early the next morning, there was an odd silence that passed around the team when she entered into the room.

She felt oddly high, as if she had only just taken some illicit substance or alcohol before she headed into work. Realistically, she would never compromise her working situation by doing any of that, and she knew exactly why she was feeling so happy the way she was; She was excited at the prospect of being in the same room as Raymond Reddington again, after what had transpired between the two of them last night. After months and months of denying her feelings and having to endure Red's flirtatious remarks with tiresome restraint, Liz had finally made the first move.

It had felt amazing, and she was certain things would change in the way she wanted them to.

Only when she strode into the room and glanced around to find the man, her spirits diminished like someone throwing water over a flame.

Everyone was there: Assistant Director Harold Cooper, CIA Meera Malik, and Donald Ressler. The only important figure absent was Red, and Liz felt disappointment flooding within her as she took in that he hadn't arrived yet. Red had usually made it a habit to arrive at the same time Liz did. Sometimes even earlier so that they could fit in a few teasing conversations before the serious games began. Liz firmly believed that the group wasn't incompetent or ill-equipped to deal with cases on their own, but without Reddington there personally to guide them along things tended to get hectic and scrambled, as she had learned well from experience the past year of working with the man.

"Good morning," she greeted the team, folding her arms over her chest. "Where's Reddington? Usually he's here?"

She caught Cooper and Ressler exchanging a look. "We thought you'd know the answer to that," Ressler said. "He hasn't shown up yet. Do you know why that is, Scott?" From Ressler's tone, it sounded like a direct accusation.

Liz thought hard for several moments before she answered carefully. "No. Why would I know where or why he is late today?"

"Because you're the only one he talks to," Ressler exclaimed, annoyance in his voice. "Has he contacted you?"

"No, he hasn't. I haven't been in contact with him since yesterday morning when we were all here," Liz said, although she knew it wasn't entirely the truth."That's it, that was the last of it."

She cringed and hoped no one else paid any attention to her. She had gone against what was probably considered professional, and visited Red at the hotel room she had been informed that he was staying in last night. She had kissed him, and her lips still felt the warmth of his mouth on hers, even more than eleven hours later since it had happened.

She had felt good about it, at the time. She felt as if she had accomplished something; broken down the barriers that dictated the platonic relationship between the pair of them. But now, as she realized the team was suffering with his absence, she somewhat regretted her impulsive move. What if he wasn't going to help them catch the big-time criminals anymore, all thanks to what she did? Liz didn't think that Red would have reacted to it that badly. She could tell he was surprised that she had kissed him, yes; As if she had sprung up a big, unexpected thing on him. But his absence in the room hurt her more than she would have liked.

Liz felt hurt, and deeply insulted. Also, she felt some depressing sense of rejection.

The pain that hit her was so immediate and so intense that Liz was shocked to find she hadn't crumbled to the ground in a heartbroken heap for everyone in the room to see. It had taken her a lot of time and courage to build herself up again after her divorce with Tom. It had taken her a lot of guts to finally make the first move with Reddington last night. So the fact he didn't show up and was practically bailing out on seeing her today was crushing on Liz's frame of mind. On one hand, she wanted to track him down and cause him agonizing pain in order to protect herself. But a more stronger part of her wanted to be reasonable, to confront him, to ask him why.

"He's usually punctual and here by now," Liz heard herself saying out loud.

"Yeah, well, you're wrong on that," Ressler said. "He isn't here. For all we know, he could be halfway out of the country by now."

"Reddington wouldn't do that," Liz said defensively. She wasn't sure whether she believed that herself, or whether she was just saying it because it eased her mind to think the best of him. "He'll be here. Maybe something came up?"

"Why don't you contact him, Agent Scott?" Cooper suggested gently, but Liz was already on it.

Without thought, she turned away from the crew, found his number in her list of contacts, and dialled.

Liz could almost hear the blood thrumming in her veins as the call went through. It was childish and immature of her, and she felt reminiscent of a girl with a crush, but she craved hearing his voice after what had happened last night. It was just a pity it had to be over the phone and not in more personal, intimate locations.

Dembe's voice shocked her as he answered the phone gently. She made a silent signal to Cooper to tell him she was on it, before she turned around again on the spot and tried with all her might to block out the prying ears and eyes from behind her. "Dembe, it's Agent Scott. Can you put Red on the line for me? I need to speak to him."

"Unfortunately Raymond is not available at this time. Can I leave a message instead, Miss. Scott?"

Liz felt a deep aching in her heart, but she ignored it. He was avoiding her after last night, she knew that much. Maybe she had made a huge mistake in coming to him after all. Maybe she had misread all the signals, all the signs that had told her his feelings were personal?

But surely she couldn't have been wrong. All those long hours spent working together...

Her safety was his number one concern, it seemed. He had helped her find a reasonably priced house off his own back, without her even having to ask, all because he knew she found it hard to cope living in the same house that she had shared with her ex-husband. Red had even arranged a man he knew to come into her house and set up security systems, lecturing her on how it worked and what she should do in a time of crisis.

Red was always more open to engaging in friendly, playful conversations with her, rather than anyone else in the Bureau. Always being the first to compliment her, always demanding her attention above everyone elses, the lingering stares he gave her in a room. They way he seemed to constantly gravitate towards her, invade her personal space, get real close with their faces. Once he had even lent her his coat on one of the coldest days. He opened doors for her, and treated her like she was a young woman worthy of knowing. He respected her. Brought her back up when she was feeling down. He gave her strength and made her feel confident in her abilities.

All the things Liz felt privately pleased over.

When the divorce with Tom had been finalized, Red had assured her that a loving man would come again. A man that would respect her, show her the tenderness and love she deserved. It wasn't the end and she wasn't any less worthy a person to find happiness and a relationship just because Tom had destroyed her faith and made her doubt herself as a person. She had started believing, maybe falsely, that the person he was implying indirectly was _himself_. That loving man, who would respect her, make her laugh, _could be_ Raymond Reddington. But apparently she had misinterpreted everything.

Liz had made an honest career out of reading people. Reading body language and hidden signals. Could she really have been that far off the mark, when it came to Reddington?

"No, no messages." She tried to make her voice sound strong and firm. "Put him on the line. Now."

"I'm terribly sorry, but I am unable to do that."

"Why?" Liz listened carefully, straining her ears for any movement or voices in the background. She heard none. "He was supposed to be here. Everyone is waiting on him."

"Raymond is unable to come in today."

"Why?" The forceful question flew out of her mouth without control. "Why can't he?"

It was then she heard it. Hushed voices on the other line. One voice belonging to Red, and it affected Liz in a way she didn't think she would ever feel again. She had felt this way only once before, and it was when her and Tom had first started seriously seeing each other; The happiness and excitement of hearing his voice, the warmth that spread throughout her bones like a raging fire, the longing to be near him, to be surrounded by his voice and everything that was him. But then she heard another softly spoken voice in the background, one that made her heart plummet down into the depths of her chest. A woman's voice. A woman's low and husky voice, intermingled with Red's.

It very nearly pushed her over the edge, like a deranged woman.

"Put him on. I don't have the time for this."

She heard movements on the other line as Dembe interrupted Red and the woman uncertainly. "Excuse me for intruding, but Raymond, you have a call. It's Agent Scott and she seems desperate to talk to you. I don't believe she can wait."

The hurt that came on again was even more intense than before, when she heard Red's reply. His voice was devoid of any emotion, unlike the usual warmth and playfulness he usually addressed her with. It was as if she was little more but an inconvenience to him, something that wouldn't leave him alone and pestered him.

"I'm busy, Dembe. I have better things to do with my time than associate with a bunch of puerile FBI wannabes. If it is as urgent as she believes it is, have Agent Scott return the call at a later hour."

When the connection was cut off, Liz took a moment to gather herself with her back turned from everyone. Taking in a deep breath, she forced a smile on her lips as she met Cooper's gaze. "Yeah, he's not coming today," she said, as brightly as she could. "But that doesn't matter. We can still do well without him."

She heard Ressler sigh loudly. "I knew it," he muttered under his breath tersely. "I knew he wasn't showing today."

"So, what do you want? A medal for being right?" she asked him, unable to take reign of the irritation in her voice. "Let's just do this without him. It isn't like we haven't done it before."

**I hope this wasn't a let down!**


	3. Drunk Dialling

_**I want to thank you all so much for being so sweet to me. I didn't think the story would generate that much interest, as I feel I'm such a bad writer. **_

_** It means so much to me, the kind response I have received so far. I hope you enjoy this one. Like always, I hope to know your thoughts. Thank you!**_

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_**Chapter Three**_

"So... according to what Reddington said, this guy has been under the radar for a while now. We don't know anything other than what Reddington disclosed yesterday. We can only base it around that..."

Habitually Liz kept finding herself glancing at the spot beside her, only to discover once again that Reddington wasn't standing next to her. It was a cruel thing to swallow each and every time she did it; Red wasn't standing there a hair's length away from touching her, hands steepled near his waist and his eyes on her, offering her the moral support and gentle guidance that he gave her like he frequently did at this hour of the morning. In his place instead, was an empty spot of cement and hollow space that made her feel cold inside and uncertain of informing the team on what they had learned of their next target on Red's list.

It was easy to miss Red when he wasn't around, sprouting off information that would assist them. But it wasn't only just his guidance that she found herself missing; It was his general presence in the room and the way she felt more secure with him around. _Where the hell was he and why didn't he accept her call?_

It was only when everyone was getting ready to leave the Post Office that her phone finally vibrated. Liz felt her entire body relax as she checked the I.D on the call. Nick's Pizza. Reddington had finally gotten the time to call her back.

"It's Reddington," she informed Ressler breathlessly before answering and holding it to her ear. There was so many things she found she wanted to say to him, yet the only sentence that came out coherently was: "Where are you?"

"I'm fantastic today, Lizzie. Thank you _so much_ for asking me. How are _you_ today?" His voice sounded miles and miles away, with a slight tinny air.

Liz sighed heavily through her nostrils and tried to keep herself from shouting. "I wasn't asking you _how _you were, I was asking you _where_ you are. You were supposed to be here, eight-thirty on the dot, like you are every other morning. What's changed now?"

"A little telephone ettiqute is what you need, Lizzie. I'm surprised they didn't have a course at Quantico on the very subject." Red's tone was condescending, yet playful at the same time.

This was the Raymond Reddington she had dealt with for the past twelve months, and she felt almost relieved that he wasn't acting as aloof around her as he had been before when Dembe attempted to transfer her call over to him.

"You didn't answer my question. Where are you?"

Red didn't reply for a moment or two, but she heard strange fumbling noises in the background. "That one, I'm not too sure of," she heard Red say uncertainly, addressing someone else on the other line that she obviously couldn't see. "The pattern and the tweed is a little too...ancient for someone in their early thirties. How about something a little more stylish and present-day?"

"What the hell are you doing? And... _where_ are you doing it at?"

"I'm in a fabulous little clothing store for women in Florence, Lizzie."

Her head was thrown into a whirlwind of questions. "As in Florence, Italy?"

"Yes."

"You do realize you're meant to be here in Washington, right? You have an ongoing deal with the government. It was the whole part of the arrangement; You stay here, you help us. You always come in the mornings usually."

"Yes, I agreed to help and be of assistance in any way I can, but staying in Washington wasn't part of that agreement. Besides, it's called keeping up appearances. The minute I stop doing that, I am of no use to anybody. It's how I conduct business and do what I do best."

"Right. And shopping in exotic locations is conducive to that, how?"

As she waited for his response, she heard that voice again. It was the same voice she had heard before when Dembe went to notify Red of her call; A woman's mature, low and seductive voice. He wasn't alone in Florence. He was with a woman and, apparently, they were clothes shopping together. How lovely for them.

"Have you found what you were looking for yet, Raymond? Or do we need to spend another droning hour in here?" The woman's voice was familiar to Liz, she had a feeling she had met the woman before, although she couldn't put a face or name to the voice. She heard the woman give out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "You know, I'm still waiting for that glass of Champagne that you promised me hours ago. Aging has obviously warped your idea of fun."

Liz closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing as that same unpleasant feeling hit her again in a cruel wave; A feeling a mixture between jealousy and grief.

"Who are you with in Florence? You're with somebody. A woman. Who is she?" Liz was relieved her voice reflected nothing of what she was feeling in its tone. She sounded neutral, and simply curious... far from what she was feeling on the inside.

"Just an old friend from a very long time ago, Lizzie." His deep tone was impartial and lukewarm. "There were some... loose ends that needed to be cut. I thought it would be easier to take care of them while I was already here in Florence conducting business."

"Call it what you want," Liz muttered, finding her voice again, "Conducting business, cutting loose ends... whatever. Just let me know when you'll be back."

"I should be back in roughly four hours or so. How is everything coming along there?"

"We don't have any leads. It's a dead-end so far."

"I have confidence that you'll find something."

She turned to look behind her shoulder at Agent Ressler, who was hanging around by the opening of the elevator waiting for her, his expression grim, hands on his hips. She dropped his gaze and focused on the floor.

She opened her mouth, about to tell him pleasantly to have a 'safe flight', when she heard the woman's voice again.

"Oh, come on, Raymond," she said with an impatient lilt, "Hang up on the girl already and let's get that Champagne you promised me earlier."

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience," Liz heard the words forming before she could refrain from them, her voice hard and bitter. "_The girl_ will be hanging up now. Have fun 'conducting business' with your glasses of Champagne and sorting through your shopping bags together."

"Wait, Lizzie, I-"

"Goodbye, Reddington." She hung up, hating how fragile and broken her voice sounded.

She felt like such a foolish idiot. Did she really believe anything would ever happen, even if she went completely out on a whim and had kissed him? Clearly she hadn't been thinking logically at the time.

_And damn her for letting herself develop feelings for the man..._

It wasn't as if it was something expected. It hit her completely by surprise herself, and threw everything she knew into a state of turmoil. Falling for the man who was a known criminal, someone she worked with... She knew having something of a romantic relationship with Raymond Reddington was more than likely to fail than ever work out between the pair of them in the long run, and yet, she still hoped that deep down he shared the same feelings for her. Liz was already stuck in an emotionally fragile state, after things with Tom turning to ash. It was her own fault for falling for Reddington and letting herself become open to being hurt again. The only person she could blame was herself.

Red wasn't interested in her in the slightest romantically, and Liz was at fault for misreading the signs so hugely. If she hadn't let herself get into this situation, then she wouldn't have been where she was now, stuck reeling with humiliation and a throbbing, deep ache in her heart.

Moisture pooled in her eyes and she quickly wiped all traces of it away on the back of her hand before she approached Ressler. They entered the elevator together and Liz tried to keep her expression as empty as she possibly could.

She didn't want Ressler, of all people, noticing how betrayed she felt inside, how humiliated and rejected. It took all her strength not to just throw in the towel and call it a day. She knew they weren't getting anywhere this morning, no progress was being made, and that it would have only been fruitless in trying without Reddington's help.

If she hadn't made the decision to come into his hotel room in the middle of the night last evening and threw herself at him, things probably would have turned out differently and productive for the crew. Instead, out of her own impulsiveness, she had driven the one secret weapon they had away to Florence on his private jet with some woman Liz wasn't even sure the name of.

And _'The Girl'_, the term the woman had nicknamed her. What was she, an adolescent?

She let her personal feelings get the best of her and due to it, everyone else was unknowingly paying the price.

She couldn't believe how wrong she had been, though. She had sincerely thought there was romantic interest there between Reddington and herself. She thought it was mutual. Evidently not. And really, if she thought hard enough on last night... she shouldn't have been so blind to it. Red's reaction to her turning up unannounced at his hotel room and kissing him ought to have been a revealing sign. He hadn't wanted her to kiss him, he was unresponsive to it all, and he had dissuaded her against ever thinking anything could have happened between them romantically.

_"Lizzie, I don't know if that was such a good idea. I'm... far too old for you. Not to mention this would only be incredibly messy for both of us."_

It wasn't exactly the most encouraging response a man could have when a woman kissed him and put herself out there...

How could she have been so stupid and blind to everything?

No wonder he was so eager to get away to Florence with another woman. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. He probably didn't want to let her down, so he did it the painless way he knew how, in ignoring her and creating miles and miles of distance between them. Red hadn't even acknowledged the kiss. He just went on as if it had never happened. Now Liz had a clear understanding of why.

"Liz?" Ressler's gruff voice tore her out of her tormented thoughts and she realized they had already reached the ground floor of the Post Office. He was studying her closely. "You feeling okay, Scott?"

Liz didn't trust her voice, so she nodded wordlessly and clasped her hands together in front of her, keeping her eyes fixed on her glossy thumbnails.

"You sure you're doing okay over there?"

She smiled at him tightly and tightened her fingers. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for asking."

"No worries. You know, I'm always here if you want to take a load off?"

"Thanks, that means a lot to hear, Don. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I just have a lot of stuff on my mind that I need to sort through."

"It's been a big year, Scott," Ressler said, "You've had a lot happen to you. Reddington's half to blame on most of it."

Just hearing his name made a sudden stab of pain course through Liz's body, opening the wound again. "It's nothing to do with Reddington. Sure, I'm pissed that he didn't show... but he's done that a few times before."

"Then your ex? Your divorce?"

It was easier to pretend, so she nodded and followed him as they walked out towards where the SUV's were parked. "Yeah, it's Tom. Things are just messy. I'll be fine."

"As I said, I'm here if you need to-"

"- Thanks, Don, but I'm really fine. There's nothing there to load onto you."

Ressler still looked uncertain, but he jerked his shoulder dismissively. "If you say so, Scott..."

"Well, I do say so. Let's drop it." Setting her chin, she strode towards the SUV. "We have work to do. No more chit-chat."

By the end of the day, Liz felt drained and exhausted with keeping up pretense. Just as she had suspected, they found no leads, no connections. It was a dead trail, but she was glad she had work to focus on and keep her occupied for a couple of hours. It was only leaving work that was the hardest part for her, and she was reluctant to leave the office and go home for the night.

When she got in her car and had private time alone, she sagged in the driver's seat and tried to release all the emotions she was feeling at once. It was all so overwhelming. Hot tears pooled in her eyes again and her eyes stung as she blinked them away and began on the short drive home to her empty, welcome-less house that she shared with only Hudson, the dog.

When she got inside and locked the house securely up, Hudson scurried towards her and Liz fell down on her knees in the dimly lit hallway to greet him. It was impossible to feel so unlovable when she had Hudson so happy and energetic to see her. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she wrapped her arms around his long body and pulled him tightly to her, his claws clipping on the hardwood floor.

"Hey, Hud," she breathed unsteadily, unable to shake off the feeling that she had lost something. "How was your day? Mommy had a big, big day and she's feeling so down and upset." Realistically, Liz knew it was ridiculous to feel depressed over losing something she never even had in the first place, but the feeling refused to leave her.

_Goddamn Reddington_. She should never have let him into her heart, her mind. It was exactly the same sense of numbness she had felt after the big break-up with Tom, if less stronger because she hadn't been Red's wife and it wasn't as if she had him in the first place.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Liz forced herself to stand and get Hudson's dinner prepared. She was being more than just ridiculous, and she knew it. For all she knew, Reddington was probably still in Florence, spending time with the undisclosed woman over indulgent glasses of Champagne. They were probably having the time of their lives without a care in the world. Liz probably never even factored into anything, and it had probably always been that way all along.

She was nothing to Reddington. She was probably little more than an afterthought. So why should she let him upset her so much?

As she pulled out a can of dog food for Hudson in the refrigerator, she eyed the bottle of unopened Whiskey she had in there on the shelf. It had been an impulse buy, and strong liquor disgusted her usually. But now, considering how down in the dumps she was, Liz actually found herself tempted to drink the entire bottle and get deliriously drunk. It would be suicidal but a lot of fun. So that was exactly what she decided to do.

She grabbed the bottle, set it on the table, and changed into her comfortable nightgown before returning downstairs to it. Hudson peered up from his bowl and cocked his head at her as she unscrewed the cap and tossed it on the counter. Steeling herself mentally for the sickening taste, she brought the nozzle up to her mouth and took a small sip. The first sip was revolting, but she grew accustomed to the taste after a few more mouthfuls. She then found her way to the sofa and curled up on it with her trusty Jack Daniels bottle and her cell phone in her lap.

After a while, with alcohol buzzing in her system, Reddington rejecting her no longer hurt as much. The strong Whiskey helped spur her on, and with boldness on her side, she dialed his number. Just her luck, it wasn't Dembe who picked up on the second ring. It went straight to the source. It was Red.

"This is new, Lizzie. You have never called me at this hour before. What's happened?" His tone of nonchalance bothered her and she listened carefully to make sure the woman wasn't around lingering in the background before she spoke.

"You're avoiding me. That's why you never showed up for work this morning."

"I have no earthly idea what you're talking about. Where are you? I don't know if it's the connection from where you are, but you sound... terrible. Your words are all garbled and you're slurring. Are you alright?"

"I'm just calling to ask, who the hell do you think you are?"

"I know fair well who I am, Lizzie." His measured, calm voice irritated her even more. "Do you know who you are right now? Do you know who you are talking to?"

"I know who_ I_ am. I just don't know who_ you_ are."

"Are you drunk, Lizzie? Are you drunk dialing me?"

Liz felt a flush spread over her face. "Um, no. I... I'm not drunk or anything close to it. I just want to know where you get off."

"Get off? Get off... _where_, Lizzie? Or are you speaking in terms of sexual proclivities?"

This was another side of Red she knew; The naughty one.

"No, I'm not asking about... sex. See, can you really blame me?"

"Blame you for what? You're going to have to be a little clearer so that I can understand you."

"God, I feel like _such_ an idiot."

"Yes, well. Alcohol tends to do that to a person."

"It isn't the alcohol. It's... _everything_."

"Are you upset about your divorce with Tom? Is that what you are trying to get at, Lizzie?" Concern was evident in his soft, baritone voice. "It's hard to cope? Of course it'll be hard and there will be some trying times ahead of you. But it's just a fact of life, sweetheart. You'll get through it and come out on the other side fine because, despite what you might think or how you are feeling in regards to yourself, you're stronger than you can ever know."

"It isn't about Tom at all. Why do people keep assuming that? This is about you and me, and the fact that you ignoring me makes it hard for me to cope. You're avoiding me over what happened last night, and I'm... I'm sorry I made a huge mistake."

"Just where are you?" She heard the exasperation in his tone. "Where are you drinking? Do you have company with you?"

"I'm home, with Whiskey and Hudson."

"You can hardly count your four-legged pooch as valid drinking company, Lizzie. I was speaking more along the lines of... like-minded individuals such as yourself. Humans."

"There's... no one but myself. No one, but me. Tom's gone."

"Dembe is getting the car ready. I'll be there in roughly fifteen minutes and then you can resume your drinking session with me. Don't leave your house. Not a single step out the front door, do you understand, Lizzie?" His voice was determined yet strangely threatening at the same time.

"No, don't come. Don't get Dembe to get the car ready. I don't want to see you right now."

"Then that's too bad, Lizzie. I'm just gathering my coat, and then I'll be on my way over to you. I'll see you shortly. I already have a key to get in. Stay right where you are."

Liz knew that when Red's mind was made up, there was no way of talking him out of it. So all she could do, was sit and wait.

**Hope this one wasn't terrible. Thank you all so much for being so nice, it's so generous of you guys and makes me feel a bit more confident about attempting to write a Red/Liz fanfiction. I hope they aren't too out of character (Liz getting drunk, especially). Thank you!**


	4. A Gift

_**I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I'm just a huge Red and Liz fan, I cannot get enough of the two and am hoping by the end of the season something happens between them.**_

_**Thank you all so much for being so lovely. It means the world to me, and I do hope you enjoy this one. I have never written anything like what is to happen at the end of the chapter, so I apologize if it's terrible. Thank you!**_

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

Although he made it clear to her that he was coming over despite her protests against it, it was still a strange and unsettling moment when Liz heard the front door unlock and the two men- Dembe and Red- enter her house quietly. Liz's heart beat rapidly, pounding in her ears, as she heard the two men speak to each other in hushed voices about removing their shoes in the hallway.

She had never felt so self-conscious as she did then, in that moment; She was only in her nightgown with a pair of socks on, and the alcohol was still buzzing in her system. Her movements felt slow and draining as she struggled to sit up on the couch.

The two men entered the room just as she was fastening the strap of her robe tightly over her waist while standing from the couch.

She staggered slightly forward and had to suppress the hysterical urge to burst out laughing. So drinking hadn't been the smartest idea she had and when Dembe met her eyes as he stood in front of Reddington, she thought the handsome dark-skinned man looked quietly concerned. He was in bodyguard mode; Wearing an incognito, tailored and pressed dark suit and tie. Liz wondered if he had accompanied Reddington to Florence and whether he was included in all the fun of indulging in extravagant glasses of Champagne while Red had company with another woman.

"I told you not to come here," she snapped at him, then reddened as Dembe frowned. She _was_ slurring, and it was embarrassing to be doing it in front of the two men undignifiedly. Since Dembe was blocking Red from her view, she directed her words at him instead urgently. "I don't want to see you right now, I'm in no state to see anyone. I thought I had made that perfectly clear on the phone."

When Dembe moved sedately around her house, inspecting the paintings she had strung up on the walls, she finally caught Reddington's penetrating gaze and her world blurred and spun.

Her knees threatened to buckle from underneath her so she bent down and gripped the edge of the coffee table near her with her hand for support. Despite her probably misdirected anger at him and the sense of betrayal he left her with, she had missed him terribly for the short time he had been away in Italy. He looked sharp and handsome in the black fedora hat he was wearing, combined with an unbuttoned long black trench coat, white shirt, scarf with matching colored vest, trousers and an emerald-green tie.

As his eyes stared into hers, he gave her a quick small smile. "Hello, Lizzie."

She felt a billion emotions come to her at once just at the sight of him and the warmth in his voice.

That hurt and betrayal again, mixed with something similar to a yearning to hug him. Instead, she took firm grasp of her emotions and sat herself back down on the couch before her legs gave way completely. She crossed her legs, made sure the robe covered most of her body, and slipped her hands underneath her knees, sitting on them so she wouldn't be tempted to do anything that would make him feel less than comfortable. Even while sitting, the room still felt vaguely as if it was spinning and on a lean. Liz's face felt as if it was burning, but she wasn't sure whether if that was partly due to the alcohol.

"Nice." Dembe's voice startled her from behind the couch and she turned to find him with her eyes. He seemed particularly fixated with one of her framed pictures on the wall. It was only a cheap picture, one she could easily afford, of a lonely beach in some exotic place, probably in Hawaii or Brazil.

"Yes, I think so, too," she murmured quietly, turning her eyes back on Reddington. Was it just her or was the room sweltering? Her eyes dropped to the plastic bag she hadn't noticed Red was holding in his hands until she paid more attention, her eyebrows lifting. "Had fun shopping in Florence, I assume?" she asked in a hurried voice, praying to God she wasn't slurring too much. "What's in that bag you're holding there? A parting gift from your girlfriend?"

She closed her eyes and cursed inwardly at her immature slip of the tongue. When she slowly reopened them, he was standing in front of her, holding the bag out to her with a hand.

She caught the twitch of his mouth as he said, "I brought you something."

"Oh, really?" She hated how high her voice went in pleasure over that learned fact as she accepted the bag and sat it on her knees. "You brought me back a present? In Florence, Italy, with a woman- possibly a conquest standing beside you? How... thoughtful."

His eyes went back and forth between her mouth and her eyes as he removed his hat and sat it on the coffee table near her half-empty bottle of Whiskey. Liz's eyes widened as she took in how much of liquid was left in the bottle. She had already drank half of the contents apparently. No wonder she felt peculiar.

She knew Red had caught the tart, curt edge to her voice and she was determined not to let him off the hook, no matter how unjust her anger.

"You're upset with me. Hopefully the gift will make up for it."

_Took him long enough to realize..._

"No," Liz denied quickly, ignoring the painful tight clenching of her heart. "I'm not upset. Being upset implies that I care what you do or who you do it with, when really... I don't care at all. I have no reason to be upset with you." Or so she tried to tell herself. Even to her own ears she didn't sound very convincing, though.

She applied all the weight of her legs on her hands as he sat beside her on the couch, his forearm all the way up to his shoulder brushing against hers. It was all that Liz could do to restrain herself.

Talking about her own personal feelings felt dangerous to Liz, so she purposefully steered the conversation into another direction, leaning her head back on the couch to catch his eyes, "We got nowhere today and I... I needed you to be there. The Bureau needs you."

_I just need you... You and your presence._

His lips parted then closed. "You guys are always doing a mediocre job without me." As Red shifted slightly on the couch to face her, Liz felt a lot of unease at their closeness. He lifted his arm to rest it on the back of her couch, outstretched fingers almost touching the nape of her neck. His chin dipped slightly as he gestured towards the bag in her lap. "Aren't you going to open it and see what's inside the bag, Lizzie?"

Liz bit down on the side of her lip as she peered down at the unopened bag herself. It was tempting as hell to open the bag up and see what was inside. But for some reason, she wanted to do it without him being there, assessing her reaction to it. She didn't want to risk crying in front of him over it, something she knew she probably would do if she saw what he had bothered to buy her.

"I'm not even so sure I want to know what's inside," she said hesitantly.

"Well,_ do_ make sure you open it while I'm here," he said impatiently, and she heard him take in a deep breath. With his next words, his voice changed, into something deeper and unsteady, "Otherwise it completely sucks the fun out of everything. I had a horrendous time trying to figure out what to get you. Buying a gift for a woman has never been particularly easy for me, and you are all such mysterious and complex creatures, but... a woman's perspective certainly helped. Besides, why bother going to all the trouble in buying somebody something if you don't get to see their reaction when they open it?"

Since he seemed so adamant that she see what he brought her in Florence, Liz suppressed a sigh as she slid a hand out from underneath her leg. She plunged her hand inside the bag, her tingling fingers meeting something that felt like a shirt or dress.

She turned her head to look at him. He wasn't looking at her face, but he was looking at the plastic bag. Liz saw the muscles in his jaw clench and tighten. "You brought me clothes?" she whispered with some surprise.

"I did, yes. In that fabulous little store that I was telling you about when I returned your call. I'm not sure it'll be to your liking, but what I can guarantee you is that no one else here in Washington will have anything similar to it. It is truly one of a kind." He finally met her eyes as he added, his voice soft and deep, "Exactly like the woman I brought it for." Red's gaze lingered on her intensely, and it took her breath away. She forced her eyes away from his to avoid the pressure and strength of his stare. Only one man was capable of unnerving her and disarming her with just a mere glance- and that was Red.

With her curiosity heightened, Liz pulled it completely out of the bag and held it in the air for a closer and better look. It was an elegant, floor-length midnight blue evening dress. She didn't know what to think or how to feel. It was beautiful. But Liz was also met with some confusion, mingled with appreciation for the dress. She had heard that nameless woman's voice in the background, goading Red to leave so that he could get her that glass of Champagne that he had promised her. Where did buying a dress for Liz fit into any of this? Why would he go out of his way to buy another woman a dress right in front of the woman he was currently seeing?

"Why did you buy me this?"

"Just a kind-hearted gesture. I don't get the chance to buy anyone special gifts anymore. Is it to your liking, Lizzie?" The nerves sending his voice a pitch lower was humourous to her. Raymond Reddington, the Concierge of Crime, was worried about her reaction to receiving a dress from him. She didn't think she had ever seen him be more human and vulnerable.

"Yes, thank you. It's really beautiful." She paused, trying to sort out all the different overwhelming feelings that suffocated her along with his gift. She really did like the dress. A lot. "I just... I don't understand why you would even do that?"

_Hadn't she driven him away? Hadn't he wanted next to nothing to do with her anymore after she kissed him last night?_

"It just occurred to me that I hadn't brought you anything before aside from souvenirs and so I wanted to see what your reaction would be to something far different."

"Thank you," she said quietly, folding the dress back up with care and placing it inside the plastic bag again. "I really do like the dress and I appreciate the gesture, but I just... after what happened last night and with you blatantly avoiding me, I'm just not sure that I under-"

She shook her head as she felt that irritating moisture building in her eyes and then her words were cut off, when Red leaned over towards her on the couch and his lip's suddenly landed on hers.

It caught Liz utterly off-guard and she remained still out of pure shock, her lips tightly closed and unresponsive. For a second, she felt paranoid her breath smelt of alcohol but if it did, he made no mention of it. Red kissing her was the very last thing she was expecting to happen, but she couldn't say it was unwanted.

Liz was vaguely aware that Dembe was still in the room, but as Reddington coaxed her lips to part by taking her bottom lip in between his and sucking gently, she allowed herself to forget about Dembe, closed her eyes, and immersed herself in the unexpected moment with enthusiasm. They had only kissed once before, and that was last night at his hotel suite. It couldn't have even been considered a real kiss, because she had initiated it in the spur of the moment, but this one undoubtedly was, and Liz basked in the moment. After all the stress, hurt, and worry that she had lost him to another woman, Liz finally felt at peace.

**I'm just going to go run away now... I have never written a kissing scene before really. I hope it wasn't as bad as I feel it is. Please let me know your thoughts as they are always appreciated!**


	5. Never Be the Same Again

_**Thank you guys so much for being so kind! I just watched latest episode of the Blacklist and it broke my heart. I don't think two characters have affected me as much as these two do, and it's an amazing thing. As for this chapter I hope this is okay lol. I don't have much confidence in my writing, but hopefully I'll get over it. I want to thank you so much for every alert and review I have received, it makes my day so much better. Thank you!  
**_

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

The kiss felt as if it wouldn't stop. Well, at least Liz didn't want it to stop.

With the lethal amount of Whiskey Liz had consumed earlier, she had lost all sense of inhibitions.

There was nothing else that mattered to her, in that moment, than just what was happening between her and Reddington. Their kiss was chaste and uncertain at first, as it had been when she made the first move and kissed him last night, but once her feelings for the man took over, she was keen to meet him halfway. It took Liz a moment to realize he had lifted his arm off the back of her couch, his hand tangled through the strands of her hair and holding the nape of her neck as he leaned over her. His other hand found one of hers and his fingers caressing her overheated skin made her feel feverish.

The moment was broken when she heard Dembe's quiet footsteps around the living room. She pulled away from Red, despite her body screaming against it, and then she heard the front door being closed gently. It took longer than it should have for her to feel embarrassed.

"I think we've scared Dembe away."

When she met Red's eyes with a tight smile, she was stunned by the look that overcame him. He appeared very much like a man affected by their kiss. She noticed his pupils were largely dilated as he watched her every movement, his thumb stroking the back of her knuckles. Liz was relieved she wasn't the only one.

"Let's be honest, it isn't the first time I've scared people away in the last twenty-four hours," she added, trying to make light of the situation, "I must have a talent for it."

He blinked at her. "You assume you scared me away, Lizzie?" Red's voice was hoarse and out of breath.

"I _know_ I did," she said softly. "Otherwise you would have come to the Post Office this morning, like you usually do. Why did you decide to hop onto your jet and leave after what I did?"

A long breath was sighed out as Red looked away from her. "I was only gone for a short while."

"I _thought_ you were avoiding me. The signs were all there."

Red laughed; a tired, bewildered laugh. "_Avoiding_ you? Heavens, no." That didn't convince Liz, despite how seamless his voice was. "As I said, I had some business to attend to. I understand now, judging by how upset you were, that the timing was terrible, but it couldn't be helped." He gave her a close-mouthed smile as his eyes stared at her lips. "It wasn't my finest hour, but I have never once claimed to be perfect."

"No one is perfect. I've never expected anyone to be."

"You're a philosophical drunk, Lizzie."

"I'm not as drunk as you think I am." Even as she said it, she doubted it. The room was still spinning and she had to resist the urge to throw up. "You might say that you weren't avoiding me but I know otherwise. I think I scared you last night, and that's why you didn't want to be in the same room as me in the morning. You didn't want to have to face the reality of what I did last night."

"Scared me? No." Red was watching her intently and she was determined not to back down and look away. "You couldn't be even more wrong if you tried..."

"Yes, I did scare you. It was obvious." Not once breaking his look resolutely, she rested her elbow on the back of the couch and perched her chin on her hand, scrutinizing him and his unfathomable expression closely. "Deny it all you want, but me coming to you last night and kissing you scared you on some level. Your afraid of establishing tight bonds with someone. You weren't expecting it."

He chuckled at her words, that smartass laugh that constantly annoyed her. "Of course I wasn't expecting it, Lizzie. Anyone else standing in my position would have been just as surprised as I was. We have been in this working relationship for over a year now. No lines have been crossed, until you did it, recently, last night. I felt as if you had hit me over the head with a crowbar- or something else far more painful."

She opened her mouth to say a retort, but then closed it and pressed her lips together as she thought his words over. He said it was painful? Her kissing him last night had been painful? That wasn't exactly something you wanted to hear your kisses being described as. "You say it as if me kissing you was something disgusting that had to be endured?"

"No." He shook his head as if to add more impact to the word. "That wasn't quite what I meant. I should have phrased it a bit differently."

"Then why did you bother coming here?" she demanded quietly, feeling... muddled. Something she often felt in this man's presence. "Why did you kiss me just then if it was so painful for you?"

"Painful was _definitely_ the wrong word. I'm sorry. It's... complicated."

"No. Don't be sorry." She took in a deep breath and stared down at her lap to avoid his gaze. "_I'm_ the one that's sorry. I suppose I just... misread everything between us. I don't know about you, but I've... I've wanted this for a long time." Her cheeks burned as she focused on a piece of unfurled lint on her nightgown. "You've pushed your way into my life ever since the very beginning, until you're the only thing I have left. I don't know whether that is intentional of you or not, but ever since accepting things were over between Tom and I, accepting that he wasn't _who_ I thought he was, it made me realize more clearly that you are always there for me."

Calming herself, she lifted her eyes to meet his. He was staring at her, taking her words in completely with nothing but seriousness in his expression.

"It's _always you_; You don't even need to ask how I am, because you know me so well that you can tell straight away when I'm upset." She searched his face and saw the right side of his face give out a subtle little twitch. "It started making me feel... _all these things_ for you that I never dreamed of feeling again, no less so soon after my marriage ended. But when I came to you last night, I was on the edge of desperation. You've just-" She fell silent and stared down at the cloth of her nightgown again, feeling those same painful feelings she had felt all day due to him rising their way up to the surface again.

"I've just what, Lizzie?"

She stole a quick peek up at his face again. He was still watching her, waiting, without blinking. Trying to understand where she was coming from, probably.

"You've just been so unbelievably great. You told me you weren't my father, yet you're... here always for me. It's almost like you're fond of me, yet you never do anything about it."

"And you're wondering why that is, Lizzie?"

She tried to answer, but something was forming in her throat. "Yes, I'm always wondering the answer to that. I know your not my father, but... sometimes, you feel as if you are. Not my father per se, but..._ more_ than a father. A partner. Someone reliable that I can lean on. You care about me and maybe I misconstrued that in the wrong way." The lump built in her throat and she cleared it away. "I thought I had screwed everything up somehow, by what I did last night. I thought I had scared you away from me forever. And... when I heard you were in Florence and heard that other woman's voice that you were spending time with, I thought maybe you wouldn't be coming back."

"No." His voice sounded strange to her, different. He slipped his hand over hers and clenched down with his fingers reassuringly. "No matter what happens between us- the good and the bad, the ugly and the painful- you will always have me, Lizzie. And yes, I am and always will be especially fond of you, though... fondness hardly seems the appropriate or adequate description for my feelings regarding you. I adore you, Lizzie. You've given me a taste for life. If anyone can give me a second chance at a happy life before I die, it's you."

"So where does this leave us now?"

Biting back all the pain, she forced her eyes to remain on his. Red looked at her long and hard, his gaze triangulating from her eyes, her nose, and her mouth. Then he nodded at her. "I think you already know the answer to that, Lizzie."

Liz's eyebrows rose incredulously. "Do I?"

"Yes. There are certain things you can never go back from. This, is one of them. Things will never be as they were before, and you have certainly made sure of that."

Caressing her face in his hands gently, Red moved in to kiss her again.

**Hope this wasn't terrible. Thank you all so much for being so nice, it means a lot to me. Would you like it if Red and Liz were dating but pretending not to be while at work?**


	6. A Substitute

**I want to send a huge thanks to everyone, I'm so shocked and flattered by the generous response I have received on the story. I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you!**

**Chapter Six**

At half past one in the morning, Red stood from the couch and moved to gather his hat.

Liz began to feel nervous as she forced herself to stand up from the couch, watching him. There was a tight feeling present in her throat and she felt nauseous. She was uncertain what to do or what to say. She wanted Red to stay the night but then she didn't want to be too forward in asking, and she had no idea what he wanted to do or what his plans were for the rest of the evening. Did he want to go back to his hotel room? Was Dembe even still waiting on him?

She had heard Dembe slip discreetly out the front door, but she wasn't sure whether he had only just given the pair of them privacy and was still waiting around outside her house, or whether he had completely up and left or not.

"Dembe left," Liz managed, somewhat lamely.

Red met her gaze and raised his eyebrows at her. "Yes, he did. Appropriate given the circumstances, wouldn't you think?"

Liz bit down on the tip of her tongue, unsure on whether to suggest what she wanted of him. She didn't exactly want to come off as too desperate, and what if he wasn't entirely comfortable with spending the night with her?

She tried to look as indifferent as possible as she suggested with a casual air, "You could always stay over for the night? I mean, if you... uh, wanted to? Don't think I'm forcing you to, but Dembe left and I'm not so sure he is still waiting for you. You could always spend the night here? I mean, my bed is big enough for two people. I really don't mind either way."

Red tilted his head as he stared at her, his lips slightly upturned into a smile. Liz had no idea what his thoughts were on that, and it made the suggestion all the more nerve-wracking.

"As I just said, it's entirely up to you. It was just a casual suggestion."

"Do you _want_ me to stay the night, Lizzie?"

Liz felt herself blush as she averted her eyes.

Yes. Yes, she found she did want him to stay the night.

She shrugged. "I'm... impartial either way. I just thought it would be... easier since you're already here and its way past midnight?"

With her eyes still directed at the floor, she caught the movement of his arm as he placed his hat back on top of her coffee table. "Then I'll stay the night, Lizzie. Let me just call Dembe first and explain to him what's happening."

"Great. Now that's done and dusted, I'm going to go get changed. I'll leave you to it then."

The nerves wouldn't leave her as she treaded upstairs to her bedroom. She changed into a comfy tank-top and shorts for sleeping in and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and tie up her hair into a loose ponytail. She felt a bit foolish and unattractive as she peered up at her reflection in the mirror. She wished she had something more fancy to wear to bed, some sexy lingerie or frilly nightgown, but she didn't. After things ending with Tom, Liz had deliberately thrown out half of her clothing and opted for a more comfortable and casual clothing style. Had she known in hindsight that it was a possibility that her and Reddington would be shacking up in bed together, she might have considered buying something more revealing and a little less slouchy to wear to bed.

She found it ridiculous that she was stressing so much. She had spent two years married with a husband. She had slept with him every night in the same bed. So why was she freaking out now about sleeping with a new man in bed?

The only logical answer that came to her was that Raymond Reddington was an utterly different man in comparison to Thomas Keen. The differences between the two men were endless.

Just to make herself feel better, she found her bottle of perfume in the cabinet and dabbed some on around her neck. Sleeping next to Raymond Reddington in bed instantly didn't feel so daunting when she knew she smelt good. She felt better prepared somehow.

After double-checking that she had no traces of toothpaste on her face, Liz opened the bathroom door and slipped back into the hallway. The lamp near her bed was on in the bedroom, spilling out into the hallway, and she knew without a doubt in her mind that Red was in there. She hesitated for a moment before walking into her bedroom and she had to suck in a deep, cleansing breath for courage.

She tried not to look so bewildered at the sight of Reddington changing out of his numerous articles of clothing as she approached the side of the bed that she usually slept on. She noticed he took precise care in folding his vest neatly and placing his coat on the arm of the old, rickety chair she had near her bed. She found it oddly fascinating in watching him lift each flaps of the collar of his shirt and then unwind the tie from around his neck. Even Red's way of undressing himself was orderly and done in slow, practiced steps.

"God, I'll be standing here all night," she tried to joke. "I'm trying to be polite and wait until you pick the side of the bed that you prefer first."

Red met her eyes while taking his time undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. "You can feel free to start without me, Lizzie. You'll quickly learn that I am not a fussy man when it comes to sleeping arrangements. I'm so unfussy that usually I prefer a chair over a bed to sleep on."

"I'll say," she retorted sarcastically as she pulled back the covers. "By the time you're finally done with your clothes and hit the mattress, we'll already have to be getting up for work."

"I won't be getting much sleeping done anyway. You're better off getting a head-start without me so I won't disrupt you."

"What do you mean? Your human like the rest of us. You have to sleep."

"I don't think I have even had a single decent night's sleep in over twenty years, Lizzie. Something tells me that sharing a bed with you - no matter how satisfying it is - isn't going to change that unfortunately. Once a pattern develops, it's ingrained."

"Why not?" she asked concernedly. "What's keeping you up at night?"

"It's hard to say. I ruminate on many things. There isn't just one single thing keeping me up at night. There are many, _many_ different things plaguing my mind."

Liz considered prying for more information, but knowing how notoriously secretive the man was, she decided not to even bother. She felt too lethargic to get into one of his many little mind games.

"Try to get some sleep anyway," she said, sliding into the warm sheets. She sighed contentedly as she leaned her head back against the pillow and watched him finally shuffle out of his dress shirt. He kept an undershirt on- probably because he felt self-conscious, or another strange reason Liz couldn't figure out. She wouldn't have minded seeing some skin, though... He had a tattoo on his right shoulder-blade in black ink, about four inches in length- another thing added to the ever-growing list of things Liz was tempted to ask him about, only she felt too exhausted. "You might surprise yourself. Sleeping in a bed with me might just be the remedy you need."

He was watching her intently as he folded his shirt carefully. "I won't be counting on that, Lizzie." His penetrating gaze remained on hers as he placed his folded shirt on top of the neat pile on the armchair and when he moved his hands in front of him to the waistband of his trousers, Liz had to close her eyes tightly. She knew that he knew that she was naturally curious over what was hidden underneath all those clothes, and it embarrassed her. "But here's to hoping."

xxxx

When Liz woke, it was still reasonably dark outside the blinds in the bedroom. She had no idea how long she had slept for, but when she turned her head to look at the illuminated red numbers on her alarm clock on the dresser near the bed, it told her it was four a.m. She sighed softly and fell back on the pillows, stretching out her arms and legs under the thick duvet. She expected to feel a warm limb near her belonging to Reddington, hear his breaths even as he slept, only much to her unease, she didn't. She felt nothing but the cool emptiness of the sheets in her double bed. The harrowing silence surrounding her made her ears ring.

She felt her brow crease in concern as she rolled over on her side and reached for her lamp blindly. When she switched it on and raised her head to look for him around her room, Red was nowhere to be seen in the light covering the room.

Liz wondered for a moment if she had imagined the entire thing; Red agreeing to stay over for the night, sleep in the same bed as her. But when her eyes landed on his neatly folded stack of clothes on the arm of the chair, she was relieved to know that wasn't the case.

She hadn't imagined anything in a drunken stupor. Red was very much in her house, but... where?

Extricating herself out of the tangled sheets, she sat up and collected her nightgown off the floor where she had carelessly dropped it countless hours ago. As she tied the sash tightly around her waist, she was assaulted by a strange, tingling sensation on her lips and a tenderness in her stomach.

They had kissed on her couch and it had been above and beyond her expectations. She never thought it would have truly happened- out of one of her fantasies maybe- but it had. It finally had, it was real, and they were maybe going to be something more than just working partners.

Liz smiled to herself as she got to her feet and padded towards the hallway in her socks.

She felt dehydrated and slightly dizzy from the alcohol she had consumed, but all in all, everything was wonderful.

As she stepped out towards the stairs, she heard the whimsical tinkling of music. The instance the melody hit her ears, she knew what Red was up to. He was playing the music box he had repaired for her months and months ago. Although Liz wanted to forget her former life with Tom and everything that had happened within that space of time, tossing out the music box wasn't something she found she could do. She knew Red had spent hours fixing the ancient thing for her enjoyment solely in mind, and she appreciated that. Now, even more so, than she first had.

Trying to keep as quiet on the arches of her feet as possible, she snuck downstairs just as the melody from the music box started playing again.

Her concern and nerves eased as she slipped into the living room.

The melody always seemed to make her feel safe and secure, and now, it had that calming effect on her all over again. She breathed in through her nose deeply as she found Red's shadowed silhouette as he sat on the couch. His white shirt stood out in the early morning darkness. Faint blue light casted in from the windows and she couldn't make out his expression, but she thought he seemed silently mesmerized and entranced by the sound of the music box all over again, exactly like on the night he had first shown her it.

She caught the movement as his head moved slightly in her direction and she very nearly jumped at the sudden sound of his voice as he spoke gently, "I'm sorry for waking you, sweetheart. Forgive me."

"No, you didn't wake me. I just woke up and realized you weren't there, so I came downstairs to investigate. What are you doing?"

"I told you I'm a terrible sleeper. Now do you believe me?"

Wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered, she moved closer to where he was sitting. "Yeah, I get what you were saying now. You can always try telling me what's keeping you up?" she suggested, trying not to sound too demanding.

"I don't think I will, Lizzie. It'll take hours. You could do something more productive with those hours, like fitting in extra sleep."

This was his way of avoiding answering something, and Liz recognized it. Though usually she would push and prod him, hoping he would finally slip and give in, she didn't feel like doing that. "It's been a while since I've listened to that," she admitted, jutting her chin in the direction of the music box. "Why are you listening to it?"

"It was the only thing I could think of doing to take up some time. Just like how you no doubt feel while listening to it, it's... comforting."

She inched closer towards him, then hesitated. "You mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all. Please do."

Relieved he wasn't pushing her away, she plopped down on the couch beside him, tucking her hands under her knees. A moment of silence that felt comfortable passed between them as Liz listened quietly to the entrancing melody herself. Then a question gnawed at her and she shifted slightly to face him. "How did you even begin to know about the song my father played for me? I've never told anyone about that..."

"It was just a wild guess."

"If so, then it was too accurate of a guess." Sliding her left hand out from underneath her knee, she hesitated before reaching over and placing it on his thigh near her tentatively. For a moment, she was worried what his reaction would be to the forward touching, but much to her relief, he said and did nothing about it. "I just can't reconcile how it is that you know so much about me, when I know hardly anything about you."

"You've read the reports on me that Donald dug up. You know more about me than you think, Lizzie." There was something in Red's voice that caught her attention. The tone of it sounded different, melancholic in a sense, but she couldn't pinpoint why it did. Suddenly she wished she had thought of turning on the light before she entered and sat beside him. Maybe his expression would have helped her out.

"But half the things I've read about you I don't know if there is any truth to them. You never say... anything about yourself to me. Not once have you ever talked to me about your family that you abandoned. Your wife and child on Christmas Eve. You say nothing, you never... mention them."

The silence on Red's end spoke volumes to her.

"How can a man forget his family so easily? You say not a word about them. At what point does a man decide to up and leave his family? Why did you do that to them- just never come home? Did... something happen that caused you to make such a harsh and permanent decision?"

"You should go back upstairs and get some more sleep, Lizzie."

Liz was stunned. "What?"

"I said, sweetheart, to go get some more sleep." His voice was at its lowest pitch, unsteady, and biting. "When the timing is right, have faith that I'll tell you everything you need to know. But, from where I stand now, the timing is anything but right. Since the night is still young, you should go get some more sleep in while you have the chance, Lizzie. It is bound to be a big day and you'll feel better for it."

She could tell by his tone that she had touched a raw nerve, and for some reason, she reached up and touched the back of his head with a caressing brush of her fingers without thinking. Red obviously took that as an invitation for intimacy because he immediately leaned in closer and kissed the top of her head, inhaling in deeply.

"This is why I'm petrified, Lizzie," he murmured against her forehead, and she closed her eyes tightly. "You were right. You saw straight through me, like I'm transparent. I left this morning because I needed time. Time to... think this through." His voice softened and he moved back to look at her in the darkness. Although she couldn't see him, Liz could still feel the intensity of his stare on her skin. "I am, by no means, the right man for you. I want the best for you, always. I have always wanted that, and I _do_ want that for you, more than anything else in the world. I want you to find someone who deserves you, someone who will make you happy, make you laugh, and give you everything you have ever wanted in life."

"I _have_ found that man already, and he is sitting right here in front of me."

"No, Lizzie. He's not. But I'm more than happy to be a substitute until he comes along and try to give you everything I've got."

* * *

**Hope you found some enjoyment in this one? Don't worry; Liz won't let Red go on thinking that he is something of a substitute. Thank you so much for reading. It'll probably be a few days until I can update again (I've just started a new job) but once time is free I will try to keep updating regularly. More things will happen in next chapters- the setting will be back in the Post Office where they will try to be "normal" around each other.  
**

**Please do let me know your thoughts, any helpful criticism or ideas. It is all appreciated. :)**


	7. Games

**Thank you all so much and I apologize for taking so long to update :) Hope this makes up for it. Please let me know your thoughts it's always appreciated!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven **

Liz awoke to the sounds of two men's soft laughter floating out from in her kitchen area.

Still groggy from her deep sleep, she sat up slowly on the couch and rubbed around her eyes with her fingers, trying to make sense of what was going on and where she currently was. She was still inside the house she had made her new home without Tom, but she was sleeping on her couch- something she ordinarily didn't do. She felt a little ill as she rose up on her elbows and inspected her living room. The bottle of Whiskey she had drunk was still in the same place she had left it last night on her mahogany coffee table, along with a man's dark grey fedora hat. She didn't even have to guess who the hat belonged to.

Red.

No part of last night was lost on her. She remembered everything, from drunk dialing him awkwardly, to Red and Dembe coming over. She felt instantly abashed at how ridiculous she had been last night, but it wasn't exactly like she could take it back anytime soon. Besides, what she had looked for- some type of resolution with Reddington- had come out of it. It seemed that they were going to try for something more than just a working, platonic relationship together- and she was pleased. Finally, things seemed to be looking up. Finally, things seemed to be going her way for once.

_Speaking of working..._

Cursing softly, she turned to check the time, relieved that on the clock it only said it was 7.15 in the morning. She hadn't slept in and she wasn't late for work. She still had time to have a shower and get properly dressed before heading to the Post Office. She sighed softly in relief and stood from the couch, feeling her temples pounding.

She felt like a mess this morning and, no doubt, she really did look like one. She tightened the sash of her gown over her waist before following where the boisterous laughter was coming from. It seemed way too early in the morning to be in such a frivolous mood and, for some reason, Liz found herself slightly irritated.

When she went into her kitchen, the first thing she saw was Red and Dembe sitting at her dining room table. Dembe had moved his chair closer to where Red was sitting so he could look over Red's shoulder at the splayed out newspaper in front of them. Apparently they were attempting to complete a crossword puzzle together at this ridiculously early hour of the morning. It stunned Liz to see Dembe- who usually looked stern and composed- smiling carefreely while Red looked ironically just as irritated as Liz felt upon waking. Dembe looked up at her unceremonious entrance and nodded at her silently, while Red remained focused on the crossword puzzle in front of them.

"Uh, good morning. I didn't know you came back, Dembe." Liz couldn't remember the quiet man returning to her place, no less hearing him come in.

"I brought Raymond over a pair of fresh clothes. Also, there is fresh coffee brewed in the pot." Dembe went to stand and pour her a cup, but Liz objected quickly.

"No, please. You don't have to do that. I can do it myself. Don't let me interrupt you two. Please, just... carry on. And thank you," she added, crossing over to the pot, while reaching in the cabinet for a mug. "Coffee is exactly what I'm needing. Do you guy's want some?"

It felt strange having the two men in her house, but she worked hard at pretending it didn't bother her.

"No, thank you, Miss. Liz. I am all good this morning." He smiled at her before returning his attention to the crossword puzzle over Red's shoulder.

She nodded and focused her attention on Red. "Red?"

He answered without so much as even glancing her way. "No, thank you, Lizzie."

She couldn't help but get the impression that he was deliberately ignoring her - or was, at the very least, avoiding looking in her direction this morning. She was certain she wasn't being paranoid. But why was he running so hot-and-cold with her? She hadn't done anything wrong, had she? Well, she didn't think she had. She had only been honest with him- something he once thanked her for, because a person's honesty wasn't something he personally experienced often in his life. What the hell was his problem?

She considered outright asking Red that, but then Dembe was in the room and the last thing she wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable. Truth be told, she quite enjoyed having the man inside her house. She didn't mind him being around at all.

Liz felt inwardly relieved as the two men started normally again as if she hadn't interrupted them, while she fixed herself a cup of coffee. She noticed- without really wanting to- that Red was, in fact, in some different clothes than the ones he had worn to her house last night. Dembe had told the truth, in bringing some fresh and clean ones around for him to wear today. Liz wondered what else Dembe did for him as she carried her hot cup over to the table and sat opposite the pair of them. Obviously their friendship ran deeper than what she was aware of. She watched the two of them bicker like close friends over the words on the crossword puzzle and Liz didn't believe she had seen Dembe smile so much in one setting before.

Fifteen minutes passed without a single mere look in her direction in acknowledgement while she drank all of her coffee up, so growing tired of waiting, Liz stood from the chair and moved over to where they were sitting to collect their empty cups from the table.

Liz made sure it seemed completely accidental when she bumped the side of her hip against Red's chair and leaned down over his shoulder to reach the handle of his empty cup with her hand, invading his space in the hopes of aggravating him. She stole a quick glance at Red's face to gauge his reaction, then at Dembe's, who appeared as if he was trying to hide a smile over her antics, and as she moved again, she made sure her elbow brushed up against the nape of Red's neck before she turned and placed the cups loudly into the sink.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she said, ignoring him. "Don't mind me. I'll get out of the kitchen, give you two _boy's_ some space."

She thought it would probably be best to give Red a taste of his own medicine and treat him the way he was treating her in return. See how he liked it, if she ran hot-and-cold towards him the way he was with her. She didn't understand Raymond Reddington at all, she realized, as she headed upstairs. The way his mind worked was an utter mystery to her.

Liz blew out a puff of air from her mouth, annoyed, as she went into the bathroom and changed out of her clothes. Red ignoring her after having stayed the night was so... high-school. Had they done anything intimate last night, maybe she could have somewhat understood where he was coming from. Only they hadn't done anything last night, just kissed, and... that was it.

She still couldn't figure out his mood five minutes later after her shower while getting dressed into a clean, knee-length black skirt and a green blouse. She thought since Reddington was older, it would be less... confusing and more easy. Apparently not. She applied her make up and fixed her hair up into a neat bun, her face seeming as if it was permanently pinched tight in confusion.

She could only hope to God everything wouldn't be as confusing as the day went on, and they were actually doing something productive, like working on capturing and bringing in the next person on Red's list. Even as she was finally done and went back downstairs to grab her pair of ankle boots from the front door, Red's aloofness and failure to acknowledge her unsettled her even more. She tried to blank them out as best she could, as she heard them engrossed in conversation in her kitchen. As she sat down at the front door and slipped her boots on, she wondered if maybe she was just only being paranoid after all. Or maybe... Red was trying to be considerate in giving her some space? Why and what from, she had no clue whatsoever.

When she heard footsteps approaching out into the hallway to where she was, Liz quickly stood and tried to look distracted as she grabbed her handbag off the rack. She didn't want Reddington to assume his indifference after last night was affecting her. She could play whatever little game he was playing, and meet him halfway, she told herself. She caught Red's silhouette out of the corner of her eye as he moved closer to where she was standing and purposefully, she picked up her phone and pretended to read the screen.

"Lizzie, I have an update on the whereabouts of a certain someone who used to be in your life. It's about Tom."

Liz felt her lips part in shock, before she recovered and made herself close them back up. The last thing she was expecting was for him to talk about her ex-husband, and, truthfully, she no longer cared. Tom had made sure of that after mysteriously disappearing from the house and then, two days later, forwarding divorce papers her way. She was well and truly over Tom now; though hearing his name still hurt her some.

"I thought you would be interested. Apparently Tom is-"

Liz interrupted him quickly, "Honestly, Red, I don't care in the slightest. Tom is old news now. Whatever he does or whoever he does it with, it doesn't concern me anymore."

When Red didn't speak, she forced herself to turn and look up at him. Red was standing closer to her in the hallway than she anticipated, one of his hands tucked deeply in his trouser pocket. She stared at his mouth before bringing her eyes down to his chest instead, fixing her eyes on the buttons of his vest. Looking at his mouth after having kissed last night- it was too hard to play his game of indifference that way.

Deliberately changing topic off her ex-husband, Liz muttered, "In Florence, you were with a woman. She referred to me as 'The Girl'. Who was she?"

She saw Red lean back on the heels of his shoes, as if stunned by the sudden unexpected direction she was taking things. "As I said, Lizzie, I was with an old friend from years ago."

"Who? What is this 'old friend's' name exactly?"

"You've met her once before."

"Who?" No names came to her mind. Not at this hour of the morning, anyway. "What is her name?"

Irritation spread throughout her bones like a raging fire, as Red lifted his hand and drew back his shirtsleeve to check the time on his wrist watch.

"Heavens, is that really the time? Time certainly flies, doesn't it? If we are going to make it on time, we'll have to get ready to go, Lizzie. Let's not waste time talking. In fact, I will go tell Dembe to have the car ready..."

He made a move by stepping back towards the kitchen. Before Liz knew it, her hand was flinging out to catch him by the wrist, holding him still.

Liz had worked and spent time with Red long enough to know when he was avoiding something. It didn't impress her in the slightest. "Really? You're going to use the lamest excuse in mankind to avoid answering my question? I thought we had moved past all of this..."

"Okay, Lizzie. Madeline. The woman I was with in Florence, was Madeline."

"_The_ Madeline Pratt? The woman I met who wanted an artifact stolen from the Syrian Embassy? _That _Madeline?"

"Yes."

Liz felt the heat rise to her cheeks as that confession stung her more than she would have liked it to have. Really, why should she care? It was none of her business. Working to compose herself, she released his wrist and took a step back from him. "It's none of my business, I know that. I don't even know why I bothered to ask in the first place. I was just... curious." Liz knew it was more than just plain curiosity, but she would never admit to that. Especially not to him. "I heard her voice when I was talking to you on your end. You... told me you were conducting business in Florence, when really, evidently you were catching up with an old friend, lover... whatever. You lied to me."

When she dared to peek up at his face, she saw his head was tilted to the side, his eyes intent on her face. The tight-lipped smile of his was full of amusement. "Are you jealous, Lizzie? Is that what this is all about?"

She huffed out a laugh to cover her mortification inside and looked away from him. Her ears burned; She didn't realize he was capable of reading her_ that well,_ and it was disturbing. "Of course I'm not jealous. Don't flatter yourself."

"Madeline and I are business partners, spanning years and years back. It's as simple as that. But your jealousy over the matter is frankly adorably endearing."

Liz didn't know where to look. She sure as hell didn't want to look at Red, so she fixed her eyes on the screen of her cell phone again in her hand instead. It was the safest and easiest place to look. "I don't really care. It's like what I told you last night; I don't care what you do, or who ever you do it with. Just next time, spare me the confusion and don't lie to me." Since she was only just getting started, she couldn't seem to stop. "Oh, and another thing: Whatever you're trying to do, with all this hot-and-cold bullshit, please stop it. It's... irritating me, and I think we both know what happens when you irritate me."

Doing something Liz never expected from him, he laughed; that grating, infectious laugh. When Red spoke again, that humor was gone, replaced with something deep and serious in his voice. "What you don't seem to understand, Lizzie, sweetheart, is that... there will never be anyone else. There cannot be anyone else. Your... jealousy is a wasted emotion, something _completely_ unnecessary. Madeline also assisted me in selecting a dress for you."

"Correction: I'm not jealous. It isn't jealousy at all. You're mixing my words up, and turning _everything_ around. Like you always tend to do, and I-" Her words got caught in her throat, when Red's hand landed on her shoulder.

She closed her eyes tightly and sucked in a deep breath as he ran his hand down from her shoulder to her wrist, caressing, stroking. She felt hot all over when he placed his other hand on her waist, and Liz felt it- rather than saw it with her eyes, which were squeezed shut out of fear of losing herself- as he leaned down and his cheek brushed against hers.

"Unfortunately we are going to have to resume this wickedly entertaining conversation later, sweetheart." His lips moved against her earlobe, and she felt her entire body shudder and fall apart as he moved and pressed his lips into her cheekbone. "Time is of the essence, and we need really to start moving if we want to meet Harold and Donald on time. Wouldn't you agree to that, Lizzie?"

Her name had never sounded more erotic coming from his tongue, his voice.

"Yes, you're right," she breathed, her voice sounding strange to even her ears. It was too high, too... squeaky. "Let's get a move on."

With some difficulty, she moved her arm and blindly groped out her set of car keys on the stand near the front door. She felt incapable of moving, as if her body was made of lead. But with effort, she managed it. She pulled away from Red and turned towards the front door, placing her hand on the doorknob.

"See you there." Fortunately her voice worked with her this time around, probably because she was distanced from him. "Since you have a key, I take it you'll have no trouble locking up for me, right?"

"Lizzie, where are you going?" Much to her pleasure, Red seemed confused. "I'll get Dembe to bring the car around, and then we can head in together. Dembe would hardly mind."

"Yeah, no. Not a good idea."

Patting herself mentally on the back at having succeeded in confusing him, Liz left her house.

**Hoping this wasn't a let down? Sorry! What did you think of the season finale? I was not expecting what happened but I'm still feeling strong about this pairing... Would you like for Liz to get Red jealous in the next chapter?**


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